


Steal from me what I can't steal back.

by Milky_Maid_Library



Series: Prompts from Tumblr [4]
Category: Robin Hood (Traditional), Robin Hood - All Media Types, Thomas Hiddleston - Fandom, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Drinking & Talking, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Lovers, Enemy Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Genderbending, Humiliation, Kissing, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, Mocking, Non-Consensual Bondage, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Simultaneous Orgasm, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:40:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22417876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milky_Maid_Library/pseuds/Milky_Maid_Library
Summary: Lady Robyn of Locksley is now the fearsome thief who goes by the name of Robin Hood; stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. However, what no one besides her merry men know is that she is actually a woman.The sheriff of Nottingham vows to release her and the other bandits as long as she agrees to reveal the true identity of the legendary robbing hooded man. Things take a turn and a night for enemies turns into hours of bliss between lovers.Prompt 100. "What did you just say?"
Relationships: Robin Hood/Sheriff of Nottingham, Tom Hiddleston & Original Female Character(s), Tom Hiddleston/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Prompts from Tumblr [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620652
Comments: 14
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Robin Hood (Official Lyrics)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/553750) by Anson Seabra. 



> Probably the worst summary I have ever written.

_5:00pm, 28 th March 1191 Nottinghamshire, Nottingham Castle Dungeon._

“Tell me, _little Jon_ …” The Sheriff chuckled, holding the hot poker near his victims sweating face, “Which of you merry men is the ‘legendary’… _Robbin’ hood?_ ”

Shit, shit, shit!

Robyn was on her knees in chains, covered in mud and grime after she fought against the guards that dragged her below the castle. She and her band of bandits had been captured, but this time it was the King’s men not the Sheriff’s. They were not dim witted and were able to circulate around them for an easy capture.

The Sheriff of Nottingham however was determined to interrogate the men himself and finally find out which, who or where the greatest thief in all of Europe was.

Little Jon, her loyal friend and brother in arms dared to never ever utter the true identity of Robin Hood. He bit down on his tongue and winced, preparing for his inevitable torture.

The devilish Sheriff smiled evilly, “Very well…” he pressed the boiling iron against the poor mans’ shoulder. The hurling screams pained Robyn, how he was her friend for so long she would never know. He had a wife and a child on the way soon, he needed to look out for himself.

Will Stutely grit his teeth and glared at the Sheriff, while Friar Tuck forced himself to look away and hold tears from spilling out of his eyes.

Their leader however could not stand the sound of poor Little Jon’s agony, she cracked, “Stop! Stop it! Please!”

The men all gasped as horror washed over their faces, a sense of hopelessness filled their hearts. The Sheriff released Little John and set the poker back in the hot fire heath. He walked over to Robyn and matched her glare with a smile. Robyn held firm, she wanted them to out live this and if it meant distracting the Sheriff then so be it.

Grabbing her face with his gloved hand and forcing her to look up at him he spat down at her, “And what about you, witch? Do you know who is the ‘great thief’?”

She noticed how all the merry men shook their heads, silent pleas begged her to lie. Her lips parted but her voice did not confirm.

“Speak!” the Sheriff screamed.

She bowed her head, tears flooded her eyes, her chest ached, “It is I Sheriff…” she whimpered. The sheriff crouched down to her level and lifted her chin with two fingers. He held a thick fog of dominance over her for the first time. His thumb traced over her wet cheek, scooping a single tear droplet.

“What did you say?” he hissed. His dark blue eyes were almost black like a demons, his gaze was intimidating. For a year she had toyed with this man in the woods, now he was toying with her.

“I said,” she confessed louder, “I am the ‘man’ you want, I am the Robbin’ Hood.”

Thomas laughed sarcastically before slapping her hard. Her whole body was thrown onto the floor by his strong impact. She shivered on the stone floor, more tears and sniffles left her. She squealed as his hand ripped through her hair and dragged her up shaking her. Blood drooled down from her nose and over her lips. She sputtered it on the floor as it glided into her mouth.

“A horseshit lie from a horseshit whore!” He yelled in her face, his spit hitting her face as he threatened her, “I should have you decapitated for such a sin. Wouldn’t you agree friar?” he looked back at the trembling holy man who immediately held his cross and crawled to the Sheriffs feet.

“No! Please seek forgiveness!” Tuck begged, “Have mercy on her!”

Robyn spoke up, her eyes shining blood shots and cheek red from his bruising hit, “I speak all truth sir,” she sighed, “Please…release these innocent men.”

She winced as the Sheriff tore her up onto her feet by her hair. Forcing her into his chest, he turned her around so that she was facing Little Jon’s chained up body. He brushed her hair over her shoulder as he spoke to her in her ear. His other hand slid down her back and rubbed over her backside.

“And if I decide to keep them locked up and torn apart by my artists of pain, what, pray tell, would you do… _Lady Hood?_ ” he mocked.

She gritted her teeth, _I’d kill you and hang your body for the buzzards to feast upon you son of a bitch._

“Hear that?” he threw his head back and laughed to his men, “Silence! Perfection in the ways of a woman.”

Robyn rolled her eyes and let him throw her into the arms of a guard. Her face slapped into his armour and when he grabbed her shoulder, his grip was painfully sharp and pinching. She hissed and tried pushing away but the guards hold was unrelenting.

“Have her brought to my room in an hour, bathed and in _proper_ attire.”

_What!?_

Her eyes widened and she looked back at her Merry Men with fear. What did he have planned for them!?

_Shit, shit, shit!_

The dungeon door slammed shut with the cynical Sheriff waving at her and an evil smirk painted on his thin lips.


	2. Chapter 2

_6:00pm, 28 th March 1191 Nottinghamshire, Nottingham Castle Sheriff’s Chambers._

She felt raw, her skin stung, and her scalp felt like it had ripped off. The maids had cleaned her entire body from her scarred feet to her hair tips. She was dosed in a sickening bath of perfumes and sweet oils from Arabia. After that she was thrown into boiling water and finally a goat milk bath filled with roses. They scrubbed her until she was as red as Satan’s arse. They pulled her hair up high and tight, braiding until it felt like her hair was ripping out of her head. They used torturous tools to cut and clean out her nails, she fussed as maids held her down, carrying on like a wild beast. She wondered whether it would’ve been easier to chance to the pain in the dungeons…They bound her in a white gown and pinned a sharp hair decoration into the braids stabbing her scalp. She didn’t see how any normal woman could withstand such treatments for beauty.

They escorted her to the large chambers of the dastardly Sheriff, the door was tall and intimidating and when she was shoved inside having the door slammed closed behind her.

The room was dark, the night had settled in and the only light was the glow of the massive fireplace. A chair was facing away from her and looking to the fire. She could see the outline of his arms and the top of his head. She shivered, slowly taking out a sharp hairpin and holding it tightly in her hand, ready to use it against him.

His hand waved out closer, “Come closer.” He mumbled.

As she creaked along the floor boards, she managed to step around and face him, finally facing him. She held up the hairpin with gritted teeth between him. He saw her from the corner of his eyes, but continued drink his wine from the golden goblet set in his hand. His ringed thumb tapped against the gold. He tore his snake gaze from the flames to her brave, poorly threatening stance.

“You are the creature from the dungeon?” he asked as he looked her up and down, sipping his wine.

Backhanded by his unusual body language. He was not afraid of her. He was calm and that is what scared her, why did he not look frightened? If he knew how many of his men she had killed herself she was sure he wouldn’t be so daintily sitting in front of her, staring at her face.

“Yes Sheriff…”

He hummed, setting his goblet on the floor by his feet, “A fine beauty you are Lady Hood.” He laced his fingers together, now looking at her shaking hand, the tip of the needle nowhere near any of his arteries. He stood up abruptly and slapped the ‘weapon’ out of her hand. She gasped and shrieked as she felt his hot, heavy hand wrap around her throat, stopping her from trying to retrieve her lost hairpin.

“I compliment you and you lack the mannerisms to thank my praises?” he growled, his fingers pressing into her skin.

She grunted and tried scratching his hand off, “Thankyou Sheriff.”

Like a hellcat she yanked away and twisted from his choking hold. When he released her, her feet felt weak and she collapsed to his feet. Using the toe of his boot he tilted her chin up, bending forward the sheriff of Nottingham sighed, unimpressed by his company tonight.

“My name is Thomas, I would like to hear it from those lips pet, do you know how excessive it is to hear ‘Sheriff’?” he asked, sitting back in his chair and drinking from his goblet again. He stared at her catching her breath, her chest rolling with every puff of air she took.

“I would imagine,” she choked, “…Thomas.” She glowered at him with disgust. What filth this man was, to handle a woman as carelessly as he did with her.

He smiled with the likeness of a crow, his hooked nose curling down to her, “Yes, as you so claim to be the very man I wish to have hung, drawn and quartered…” he mocked, “Am I correct Lady _Robbin’ Hood?_ ”

Climbing to her feet, Robyn stamped her foot, “My claims are honest sir.” She lent forward and spat at his feet. He too stood up again so that he would tower over her.

“Your claims make my frustrations rise.” He stared her down and grumbled, jabbing his finger into her chest, “You dare to mock me and my men who have scoured all of Nottingham and her forests to bring this criminal to justice?”

She scoffed biting back, “Mockery is my intent when I take back what belongs to the people,” she shoved him away from her, but his weight beneath her hands did not sway.

Thomas caught her by her shoulders, never had he met such an untamed woman so open to insulting him and his line of duty. He felt emasculated and he knew he would have to take control soon or else he would be letting a woman think herself to mighty over him.

“It belongs to the monarch you peasant,” he hissed, “Our fair King John.”

She though refused to back down again, she wouldn’t let him, the pathetic sheriff of Nottingham, the fool of the law intimidate her any longer. She would have to knock him out somehow and escape to free her Merry men unless they’ve already escaped by now. She twisted in his hands, pressing her hands against his chest to keep an arms distance between them. She spat directly into his eye.

“Our King Richard fights against the moors in the crusade in the name of Christ! John is a tyrannical bastard wasting the peoples’ wealth and resources, raising the taxes on all men, woman and children! The people are starving, babies are dying! Because of the false king!!”

Her face had turned red as a tomato as all her passions to her political opinion and cause stood. Her fists shook and she looked like she was about to explode.

Thomas was tempted to beat her for such insolence and arrogant words. But seeing her shake made him want to poke the bear further. He feather touched her knuckles, brushing his fingertips over her hand. He looked at her eyes filled, they were filled with red rage.

He took her wrists gently as he asked, “Are you his whore then?”

He was answered with an icy glare. She unfurled her fist and tried ripping her hand away from him, but he held fast. His other hand released her wrist and brushed her loose hair over her ear.

He laughed, “Is the Lady Marian not enough to quench his desires?”

_SLAP!_

That was the last straw. She would not let him dishonour her dearest friend. To insult her was one, to insult the name of the King’s cousin was another. Marian was now suffering from the gossips of the court and rumours of the church due to her connections to Robyn’s career.

She was panting by the anger in her heart.

The sheriff was not shocked, but he wasn’t happy by her outrageousness. Thomas thought that now would be a perfect time to show her what a man could do to a disobedient and disrespectful woman.

“Let us see what he so fancies in a woman like you!”

He twisted her around and forced her back to his front as he ripped up her dress and tore her hair out of braids. He smacked her thighs and kicked his knee between her legs forcing her to spread as his hand cupped her hot centre. Not wet but boiling from the blood pumping in her heated rage.

She clawed and bit and screamed. Tearing at his invading hand that now fondled her carelessly. She now saw the true Sheriff, how he had no redeemable honour! To treat her like some bar whore was as bad as being a bar whore himself.

She growled and ben forward reaching her hand down between them. She couldn’t get him off of her, his hand rubbed hard on her clit. She bit her lip at the sudden spark that blew up inside her. She release his wrist and grabbed his growing erection “Don’t touch me pig!” she smacked his balls.

He choked and threw her down on the floor while he cradled his jewels with a wince.

“Pig? You who stunk like a farm in the dungeon call me a pig?”

He circled passed her as he moved to his massive canopy in the centre of the room. Two more cups and a big bottle of wine sat on the bed’s side dressing table. After sitting and pouring two drinks, he looked at the poor woman on her hands and knees shivering and glaring with red eyes up at him. Her hair was is a messy and she blew a strand away, a scowl spreading on her lips.

“Come, sit.” Thomas said, patting the bed on his side.

She was appalled, “No.”

But the sinful sheriff rolled his eyes and shook his head at her, there seemed to be only one way to get what he wanted…threats.

“Sit or those merry men will meet the sword tonight.” He plucked the cups from the chair and watched as Robyn slowly climbed up the sheets, she sniffled loudly and poured her face into her hands. He was a pathetic hunter and sheriff but now he was holding all the cards in his hands.

“Good girl.” He praised, holding out the wine he commanded, “Drink.”

Robyn obediently took the cup from his hand and as she lifted it to her lips she noticed from the corner of her eyes that he was staring at her, she froze and lowered her cup. She studied the wine, the red reflection was blinking back at her. He wasn’t drinking from his own wine glass.

“It’s poisoned.” She stated and held it away, her eyes widened in fright at how close she was to true death. She imagined she would die either as a old woman sitting in a garden or a public executed after captured by the law. To be poisoned was as tragic as dying in childbirth; young and unable to control the situation.

The sheriff shrugged. Thomas sipped from her glass and handed it back to her, his brows furrowed as his stern tone pressed further. “Drink. Now”

He sighed and she sighed. She drunk the wine down and chugged it, letting the warmth fill her stomach, breathing slowly with him as thy both calmed down from the tension and disagreements. They faced each other as he offered to pour more wine which she accepted politely. They drank the wine without saying anything anymore. They had both learned that talking would only worsen the situation.

Robyn was trying to think about how she’d escape and how she might stop the Sheriff from ever harming the merry men.

Thomas was thinking deeply on how he’d find and hold the outlaw Robin Hood.

They both sighed again.

The fire was now dark, the flames weakening and burning the wood into ashes.

“How long have you known him?” he asked amongst the long silence, “The thief.” The cup he held was not empty yet, when he looked over he noticed not a drop of wine was left in hers. He gestured for her to take his while he took hers and put it aside. Robyn didn’t hesitate to take his drink, the wine was the only good thing in her life at the present moment and current situation.

“My whole life,” she mumbled before gulping down the rest of the contents from his cup.

Her whole life, she felt like laughing, she was Robin Hood but from his disbelief of being a woman how could she ever convince him of that?

“Truly?”

She nodded and mouthed back, ‘truly’. Before her insides felt like fire. Her arm cupped her side. The cup clattering to the floor as her body followed and rolled into a ball. She gasped and panted as the shoots of painful pleasure shot up her spine.

_shit._

“Is something wrong?” he called from above, a lilt of amusement in his voice. He giggled as her eyes went unfocussed and her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. She tried looking at him, but she was in pain that felt like it was shooting out of her intimates.

She whimpered, “You did poison the wine?!”

A smirk was on his face while he purred, “I never said I didn’t.”

“But you will die!” she shrieked.

He stood up and circled she tightened curled body, his fingers unbuttoned his shirt slowly while his boots creaked on the floorboards.

“Not that type of poison, Lady Hood,” the law man chuckled, tearing off his shirt material while he slipped off his belt.

"What did you just say?"

She couldn’t stop herself. Robyn’s fingers slipped beneath her white gown and she desperately touched herself, rubbing her lips and her bud while she panted like a bitch in heat. Her cheeks swelled and blushed and her heart bounded while her eyes watered. She was desperately in fires of fire that refused to be quenched. The humiliation of being watched and him not attempting to ease her pain was suddenly a form of forbidden pleasure, the be teased and treated like an animal. She might be an outlaw but she was feared yet not by the devilish sheriff of Nottingham. He was proving his worth to her whether he realised it or not. 

Her eyes looked up to him, pleading.

She practically howled like a dog, “It burns!!”

Thomas crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees and lifted her chin with the leather of his belt. He was pleased and near her face his buldge enlarged, straining against the trousers thread.

“Good.” He hummed wickedly, “Now you know my frustrations.”  
  



	3. Chapter 3

_7:12pm, 28 th March 1191 Nottinghamshire, Nottingham Castle Sheriff’s Chambers._

Robyn huffed as she heavily masturbated to his deep voice in her drugged induced state. She now was staring hungrily at him. She was desperate for a relief in her body and her hand was not doing enough for it. A pool of wet arousal coated her thighs, her eyes dilated, and her breath was shortening.

She pressed her mouth to his belt and kissed it, licking his thumb. God, she was becoming feral. The room was moving and the fire was hot but not enough, she needed heat so she could feel at rest.

Robyn whined and stopped touching herself for a moment to reach out for Thomas’s crotch. But when he stood up, he was too far gone for her hand. She pounded it down on the floor in anguish. She forced her body up groggily and chased him on his hands and knees as she heard him laughing at her. She was pathetic and horny, no control, no sane mind, no old Robyn.

She launched herself at his leg and grinded her core down on his boot, his tip pressing gently up into her, yet not enough to penetrate. Thomas let himself enjoy the show and even glided his foot back and forth gently into her. Her fingers unlaced his pants with starved eyes and shaking fingers. Her digits were brushing his meat behind the cloth.

“More!” she demanded.

Thomas though ripped himself away from her and grabbed her by her long fiery locks, tearing her up to her weak feet.

“Beg me.” He heatedly muttered.

She gave him the biggest eyes and stood from foot to foot as she avoided the words, “Please, I need...”

He forced her hand down his pants and there she felt his cock; completely, no coverage in the way. His skin was as hot and angry as hers. He helped her hold him and tighten.

“My cock,” he shuddered, “Do you want it?”

A massive contraction of bliss waved down her body, her other hand cupped herself while she jacked off the Sheriff.

“Yes! I can’t anymore, it hurts, make it stop!”

It didn’t take the sheriff long to throw her onto the bed and tear his trousers off before he swiftly entered her tight wet caverns. The too filled the whole room and hall of their moans, groans and sighs during the passion made. Her dress was off her body in seconds, thanks to the trusty sheriff who ripped through the dress with his bare hands.

He flipped her on her stomach and mounted her like a dog. His hand reached under her and pinched her tit while he whispered in her ear filthy things he planned to do with her, things she never knew or understood but definitely sexual.

Pounding into her hard, Thomas had never felt so good in such a long time. This woman he didn’t know was a stress reliever and a dominant awakener, helping him remember who he was and how long he had fought to get where he was today.

Never before had Robyn felt so full and happy. She knew he was dangerous and essentially fucking her against her will, but she wanted this, no needed it so that she could move on and feel like a string woman. The position was her first but not her favourite she was sure it couldn’t be. He was too rough with her, his nails scraped down her back while his cock slammed back in and out of her. The swell of his mushroom cock top never fell out. The feeling of being full and warm was incredible and truly the pain from the poisoned wine was gone as he fucked her.

Thomas was nearing his end but made his point while her held her down, noticing how she was desperately slamming back against him.

“Yes, take it! I fuck better than Robbin’ Hood don’t I? I claim your cunt as my property, and he can try to steal it but he will never be able to take what now belongs to me!!”

Robyn moaned loudly in reply to his vow, “Yes, it belongs to you Thomas.”

“Yes, it. Fucking. Does.” He yelled between thrusts before letting her squeal in her great pleasure and pulled out to unleash his load over her pearly thighs. He laid next to her and forced another orgasm from her, fingering her like a maniac until her eyes rolled and she saw only…enjoyable darkness,

_6:25 am, 29 th March 1191 Nottinghamshire, Nottingham Castle Sheriff’s Chambers._

Robyn awoke the sound of an arrow cracking through stone… _finally_ … she sighed, opening her eyes she was imbedded in the chest of a wicked man. Her fist softly spread out. She combed her fingers through the thin mass of chest hair. A large arm was curled around her back; she smiled. Her memories of the pleasuring previous night replayed. You would’ve thought that her naïve enemy would be the most heated lover?

She slowly sat up, carefully moving Thomas’ arm away from her, climbing out of his bed. She picked up the discarded white dress from the previous night from the floor and grinned, the irony to think about putting this back on and pretend she was pure.

Covering herself, she heard the faint snores of the man she found had an intriguing personality. He was loyal to power and she was loyal to the people of England and the justice of fairness. But he had awoken something inside of her, something that she didn’t know existed. True sexual attraction.

She licked her lips. She wanted it again. She stole and returned, and gave all she could, but now for once she wanted to take something for herself alone.

Robyn proceeded to chain his ankles together with her cuffs she entered his chambers in. With his own canopy tassel ropes, she tied his wrists to the headboard of his bed. Still deep in his sleep, she stealthily crawled over his body and straddled his lap.

His cock laid soft against his belly. She stared at it before doing any mischief. When she had held a mirror below to see herself back at her tree hut, she saw how small the hole was. Now she was analysing the thickness of his meat and how it could possibly enter her. She wanted it to enter her again and again. It made her feel complete and warm and soft and so many other lovely things.

She gulped, hesitantly grasping it into her hand. Robyn ran her thumb over the tiny hole on top and gasped as a tiny bubble of precum popped up. None of the cocks she’d seen in her life had done that. The girth started to tighten in her cradling fingers, hardening the more she poked and prodded it and its pulsing veins. Robyn thought about how later she would ask Little John’s wife why a man went soft to hard.

She awkwardly balanced on Thomas’ chest as she moved the tip to her pussy and sat down slowly onto him. It wasn’t as agonising as the first time he took her, it just slipped in. Moaning as the thickness filled her, Robyn threw her head back and rocked down onto his cock.

As she whimpered through her pleasure she laid her hands onto his chest and clenched, opening her eyes she was startled to see the Sheriff now awake. He was smiling tiredly, staring at her through half-lidded eyes.

“Do you fuck the merry men?” his morning voice croaked.

“No,” she shuddered, his voice had increased her squelching wetness, “I do not fuck my men, they are my friends and they’ve wives.”

Thomas grinned, looking from her flushed face down to where her pink swollen cunt was speared on is cock. Her soft, wet labia lips were grinding on his pubic bone. This was not the first time he’d awoken up to a beautiful woman in his bed, but never had he experienced a surprise riding on him. 

“I doubt their wives please them as much as you please me-” he tried to reach his hand out to brush the tendrils in her face only to be forced back. Tugging his hand and having it restricted he realised his bondage and fought hard against the bindings of both his wrists.

He twisted his hips, unintentionally thrusting up, deeper into his captive…or rather his captor now. He kicked his legs and shockingly felt the cold bite of the shackles and chains. He huffed and noticed her wicked smirk.

He growled, glaring up at her, “How dare you. Untie me or else you will be flayed alive!”

“I had assumed you enjoyed this, Thomas.” She moaned and dragged up to slam down on his lap.

“Fuck!” they said in unison. Robyn’s eyes fluttered and her hips rolled desperately. His cock moved in and out the more he struggled against her. Thomas couldn’t believe what was happening! He was being fucked against his will, not that he didn’t feel good but he felt weak, trapped and humiliated.

He loved the way she wept last night but he didn’t know if he enjoyed the roles reversed. He groaned as he felt his balls explode out into her.

Robyn didn’t scream, instead let out the most satisfied moan he’d ever heard.

Slowly and painfully did she climbing off of him, his cock back onto his stomach while he stared at the white cum spilling from her gaping hole.

Robyn’s fingers roamed down and she shamelessly fingered his cum back into herself on top of him. Her thighs trembled from the intensity and she hissed with a lust filled grin. He tried catching his breath as he enjoyed the show. Would she conceive though? Did she know the art of baby making and how she was merely encouraging it!?

Thomas now let his head fall back on his pillow and grumble to himself. He could not have another bastard running around, not now!

“Release me wench,” he seethed with venom, “I command it!” his fist clenched as she laughed at his words.

“No,” She sighed happily, “I think not.”

She stumbled off the bed, now just letting what excess cum dribble down her thighs. She eyed his trousers on the floor and decided to officially steal them. Pulling them over her legs and up to her waist she tightened his belt to her and rolled up the legs so she didn’t trip.

Thomas was corrected. When he thought she was going to run out his door with his pants on, he watched as she bolted to his windows. Swinging the doors to his balcony, he finally saw the rope line made for her escape.

_What in god’s holy name? She truly is a part of the merry men…_

“Wait!” he cried before she walked out onto the balcony, “At least tell me your real name!”

Robyn scoffed, watching as he pulled his at the ropes with all his strength, “Why?”

“So that I can not only I can find you again, but-” he stopped and sighed. He jerked his head to his chamber door, “So you can pay for my humiliation when my servants enter my room.”

She smirked, and stepped to his closet, as she opened it, daggers came into view. Deeply nailed into a large scroll of the wood. The sharp pointed angles indicated that the daggers had been thrown rather than stabbed into the picture.

“Thomas, Sheriff of Nottingham,” she laid a hand on her chest, “I am Robyn of Locksley.” From his closet she stole out a large cloak. She wrapped herself up and tied the drawer string around her neck, she giggled as he glared at her thieving, “…but you better know me from my wanted posters.” Her knuckle tapped against the scroll.

Yes, a fine lined man in a hood was drawn in the centre and beneath the drawing was a bounty of twenty pounds! She was now worth the equivalent of thirty purebred stallions alone! And below that was her famous name.

She took all greedy amusement as she watched the dots in his head connect and the cogs to finally spin back.

“You are the Robbin’ Hood?”

She slowly clapped her hands before stealing a dagger and shutting his closet. She bit her lip cheekily.

Robyn smiled and chuckled softly coming to his side, “I partially admire your pretty little title for me dear, Lady Hood sounds less criminal.” She sat on his mattress and leant her face over his. Her nose pressed against his

“To help prevent too much shame in a woman conquering over you Thomas, remember-” she cupped his cheek and leant in for a deep kiss which he willingly accepted. His eyes closed as he felt a calm bliss from such a gentle act. The strange wave of regret warmed his cheeks, he had cruelly forced himself onto her and was nothing but rough. And yet he felt like he was betraying his country, allowing a criminal into his bed and now unable to stop her.

It would frustrate him now knowing that for the passed year he was hunting for men who wore hoods and pillaged rich carriages, but it was a woman swinging from the trees and taking down these lords and catching them with their pants down.

When she pulled back his head had moved slightly forward, the taste of her was on his lips and he was addicted, hooked to her warmth. She moved forward to him but leant to whisper in his ear, “…you stole something from me that I can never steal back.”

His eyes narrowed again, his mind rattled around and then _ding!_

“…You’re a virgin?” he whispered back.

Standing up, Robyn pinched his chin, and sighed happily, “Was, until you poisoned the wine.”

She walked away to the Balcony window, pulling his cloak hood over her head and waved to him smiling, “Goodbye Thomas, my favourite Sheriff.” She grasped the rope above her head tightly and held up the dagger, “I hope your path of law crosses over my path of Justice, again…” she said before cutting the rope and swinging down to land in the trees and escape with her awaiting loyal merry men who had escaped the dungeons hours ago.

**Author's Note:**

> Have a glass of milk and toss a coin to your witcher! <3


End file.
